The Winton Rovers were entirely absent from my sphere of influence. Think I missed out on something. Are they still going?

Doon the burn behind Lawson Drive. There are homemade boats to be sailed in competitions with friends and hopefully the ropes on the trees near the farm won't have been cut down so I'll do a tarzan or two and try not to fall off! Spears have been made in the garden at home when my mum wasn't looking...

And gone are the days when you gave that kind of thing up at the age of twelve or thirteen!

I said 'ginger' in the seventies. I thoroughly confused people in Ireland while on holiday by using it. The generic term here is 'mineral' (mineral waters???). I remember Curries, the Alpine lorry and also Krystal Klear. The last, I seem to remember, was made in or near Kilmarnock and once, during a...

I can't remember ever seeing any spiders of note while bramble picking. The biggest I ever saw outside of a zoo/pet shop were the ones hanging from the roof of Snib Smith's cave at the foot of the Benane Hill near Ballantrae. I'm guessing they were female as each one was guarding a white ball of egg...

It's a poor contribution, but 'Ness' is from Gaelic from Old Norse and means 'headland' (a bit like the 'rosán' in Ardrossan). Given the lie of the land where the gardens are, I think we really are looking for some kind of more recent naming than at pre-English placename. Hope that saves someone hea...

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A thorough read of Hamish's autobiography, 'Fatal Star' will dispel any thought of his being seduced by the "opium of the masses," rather he tells how an intellectually robust communist and secretary of the Scottish Communist Party recognised the opiate of Stalinism for what it was, and fo...

Rose-tinted specs are always a danger without doubt, but maybe there's a kind of satisfaction in having come through harder times. In the seventies my (arthritic) father walked the North Shore every day except Sundays looking for sea coal. A bad day was when he would come back with a lump of driftwo...

My favourite picking spot was the railway embankment between Hunter Avenue and the High Tide. It was impossible to pick all of them. Actually, it was impossible to reach all of them! I remember losing my footing once and went hurtling backwards down the embankment until I reached an impassable thick...

I'll give this a go. Am I right in thinking the first person always starts it off and leaves it for others to add to/complete?

There once was a lady called Sally,
Whose posh house was built in Spam Valley,

NI plain bread = batch loaf?